


Wise Men Say...

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Wise Men Say...

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Wise Men Say . . . by Djinn

Wed, 3 Jun 1998 18:43:08 EDT

'Wise Men Say . . ."  
by Djinn  
<>

M/Sk slash, NC-17. They aren't mine, but I'm saving my pennies and maybe, someday. Or maybe not.  
No spoilers. Constructive criticism welcomed - not sure about some of it myself, despite having a gosh darn swell beta-reader (Kai groans elsewhere). 

* * *

"Wise Men Say . . ."  
by Djinn

"Elves?"

"Elementals, sir. Spirits that inhabit certain areas and exert influence on the environment in mysterious and sometimes capricious ways." Mulder leaned forward earnestly. "In Scotland, at a place called Findhorn, there are these giant vegetables -"

Scully kept her eyes from rolling by dint of long practice and an iron will. She met Skinner's gaze blandly, silently chanting her mantra of *I will support my partner, I will support my partner, I will support my partner.* She breathed in sharply through her nose, effectively deflecting Skinner's gimlet stare from her partner to herself.

"Agent Scully, did you witness one of these 'elementals'?"

"No, sir. Though there was evidence that some force had been at work in my hotel room."

Mulder sat back, biting the inside of his cheek.

Skinner's raised eyebrow demanded she continue.

"Sir, something . . . had gotten into my makeup bag."

"Something?"

"With little tiny feet, sir. In my foundation." Scully took a deep breath and glanced at her partner, who seemed to have been hypnotized by Skinner's nameplate. "Little footprints."

"Elemental footprints, Agent Scully?"

Mulder's right leg began jumping nervously.

"That's what it appeared to be, sir."

"Agent Mulder, do you have anything to add?"

"No, sir, not a thing, sir."

Skinner leaned back in his chair and surveyed his two agents. "This report is unacceptable, even by your standards. If you want a career composing tales of elves, goblins, gnomes or other little people, you will need to do it on your own time and not involve the bureau in your moonlighting. You will rewrite this fantasy and return it to me Monday morning, bright and early. The report will be accurate and will not put forward the idea that FBI agents believe in fairies. Is that clear?"

Mulder nodded, while Scully clipped out the words, "Yes, sir."

"That will be all." Skinner turned away from the two, not watching them leave. As he heard the door close, he rubbed his eyes. "Oh, lord. Elves."

"It was getting those little footprints in her makeup that was the hard part. Do you know how hard it is to find dolls with toes?" Hands stroked Skinner's shoulders, rubbing his shoulders and pushing down to caress his pectoralis muscles through the stiff material of his white shirt.

Skinner leaned back, eyes closed, resting the side of his head on Mulder's chest. "So, no elves?"

"There was a gremlin in the airport parking lot. Does that count?" Breathless laugh behind the soft words as Mulder leaned down to brush his lips against Skinner's forehead. "She made one too many cracks about crop circles."

The assistant director curved a strong hand around Mulder's slim waist and pulled the agent into his lap.

"Walter!"

"Hush." Strong, gentle fingers traced the lean planes of Mulder's face, caressed the full lower lip, and a thumb pressed against the cleft in the obstinate chin. "God, I've missed you."

Not trusting himself to speak, Mulder leaned in for a kiss. Lips already parted by the gentle hand, were opened further by teasing licks of Skinner's tongue. Mulder groaned and pressed his body to his lover's, wanting to touch and be touched everywhere, at once.

Breathing a little heavily, Skinner pushed Mulder's head back and looked at him. "I guess this means you'll be over tonight?"

"Bastard." Mulder lunged forward and captured Skinner's mouth again, grinding his burgeoning erection into the other man's abdomen. His hands were behind Skinner's back, roaming that warm expanse of shoulder.

"Mulder. Mulder." Skinner drew back, glasses askew. "I have a meeting in five minutes."

"Tease." Mulder butted his head gently into Skinner's chest, and felt the other man rub his cheek against his hair. "Until tonight, then?"

"Yeah." But Skinner held Mulder for a moment more, the sexual urgency giving way to a less frenzied embrace. "I've missed you."

"Don't work too late. I mean it. Don't make me come here and get you." Mulder's words were muffled. "I have a gun, you know."

"I know." Husky tone to his voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

With a slight groan, Mulder stood up. "Walter -"

Kimberly's voice intruded. "Sir, your one o'clock appointment is here. Special Agents Berle and Fuller."

Skinner stabbed the intercom. "In a moment." He adjusted his glasses and watched as Mulder walked toward the door, removing his jacket, and folding it over his arm to hold in front. Walter had to fight to keep the grin out of his voice. "Send them in, please."

Mulder looked back, and in the brief moment before the door opened mouthed a phrase at Skinner, then smoothed his face and exited the a.d.'s office.

Denying the agents who entered even the barest glimpse of his unguarded face, Skinner turned his chair to look out the window. When he turned back around he was the great stone face again, while his brain buzzed with the unspoken words.

"Elves."

"Well they weren't running amuck in *my* luggage, Scully."

"Do you have any idea, Mulder, how unprofessional this makes us look?"

"Have you ever considered the incredible erotic possibilities of paper clips, Scully?"

"How absolutely foolish - what?"

"I mean the way they turn around and in on themselves. Kind of like an aluminum masturbation."

"Mulder." Sigh of frustration. "Are you going to rewrite this report?"

"And those are just the metal ones. The plastic ones, although they have the illusion of being more flexible, are in actuality much more rigid."

"Mulder, are you listening to me?"

"Sexy, really. Paper clips. What was that?"

"Mulder!"

"Okay. It's not an x-file. I give in. Is that what you want?"

"I want us to focus our energies on cases that won't embarrass us. Even that goat-sucking thing wasn't as bad as elves, Mulder."

"Elementals, Scully. Remember the little footprints in your makeup bag."

Mutter.

"Did you just call me a bad name, Scully?" Mulder looked up from fingering his office supplies, fighting to hide a grin. "What are you going to write on our new report?"

Another sigh. "I honestly don't know. Maybe I'll just scribble 'Bullshit' all over it with my lipstick and hand it in to Skinner."

"Maybe not."

She nodded her head in glum agreement. "I have a headache, Mulder. I'll work on this at home."

"Do what you can, then, and we'll finish it Monday morning." A pang of guilt for the tired look on her face. "Scully."

"I'm okay. It's just that 'elves' are so weird. They make that crazy crop circle thing you were talking about look almost normal." She darted a glance at him as she shrugged into her coat. "Almost."

The guilt evaporated. "See you Monday, then."

"G'night."

He managed to hold in his chuckle until the door had completely closed behind her.

"This is 'the love that dare not speak it's name', you know."

"Pizza, beer, and a Star Trek rerun?"

"Jesus, Walter, you are *so* romantic."

The rumble of laughter in the burly chest Mulder was leaning against caused his cock to twitch. "Down, boy," Mulder commented soto voce. Ultimate decadence, he thought, lying here against this man, neither of them clothed .. .heaven could hold no more. And they hadn't even done anything yet, really. The pizza had been delivered much too promptly.

Brush of stubble against his face as Skinner kissed him on the temple. "Ow."

"Crybaby."

Mulder stretched, feeling Skinner with the muscles of his shoulders and back. He nestled his head on the other man's shoulder, almost moaning in pleasure as a hand caressed his chest, his ribs, his hip. "Mmmm, Walter?"

"Fox?"

"I think I've seen this one before." Mulder turned his face to Skinner's neck, licking the hollow of his throat.

"And?"

"Maybe we can turn it off and do something else."

Skinner clicked the remote. "I suppose you have some suggestions." He rubbed his chin in Mulder's hair.

Entranced by the vibration of Skinner's throat against his lips, Mulder lost the thread of the conversation.

"Fox?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah." Mulder turned on his side, capturing Skinner's thighs with his leg and rubbed his palm through wiry chest hair. "You feel so good."

"This is your suggestion?" Skinner stroked Mulder's shoulder then caressed the lean back.

"My -- ? Oh, yeah. How about this, we lie here for a moment, doing this, then we make prank phone calls to the Consortium?"

"Prince Albert in a can?"

"That dates you, Walter."

Skinner dug his fingers hard into Mulder's ass, leaving red marks in the firm flesh. The younger man pinched a nipple in retaliation.

"You wanna play rough? We can do that." Skinner whispered huskily, grabbing Mulder's wrist and pinning it behind his back. Twisting his body, he rolled on top and ground his pelvis into Mulder's, causing the other man to catch his breath on a moan.

"I didn't say I wanted to--" The token complaint was swallowed by his lover's mouth. Mulder's legs scissored up to hook ankles behind Skinner's thighs. His heels drummed lightly into the back of Skinner's ass.

Walter pulled back enough to outline Fox's lips with his tongue, then dived into the searing heat of the parted mouth, tasting pizza, beer, and Mulder. He tantalized Mulder's tongue into his mouth and sucked on it, feeling the response in the way the younger man arched up against him.

Breaking the kiss and levering himself above Mulder, the strength of his arms and shoulders separating him from his lover, Skinner gazed down at the flushed face, parted lips, and passion-glazed eyes. "So what is it you do want, exactly."

"World peace?" He clasped his hands behind Skinner's neck, almost pulling himself up from the couch. "A cure for the common cold?"

"Shithead." Walter grimaced. "I thought you wanted to make prank calls."

"But you had other ideas. . . Come back down here, Walt."

"I think I'll go for a walk."

"Dammit, Walt! No more Monty Python, you promised."

Skinner grinned down at Mulder, his face completely transformed from the grim assistant director to another man, younger, handsomer, fun. Mulder caught his breath, amazed and enthralled anew by the change. Everytime he saw this side of his lover, he was delighted and somehow afraid. The trust that Walter had in him, that allowed him to see and share that emotional vulnerability, scared him by the responsibility it thrust on him to be able to deserve it. And he knew, just knew, that he could never do or be anything to deserve this love, this trust, this . . .joy.

"Walter." He swallowed the rest of the sentence. Some things are better left unsaid.

"Fox." Still smiling boyishly, face flushed with desire.

"Aren't your arms getting tired?" Mulder arched his body and rubbed suggestively against Skinner, feeling the tremor in the arms that now held both their weights.

"Yes." Walter lowered them to the couch, pressing his body against Mulder's. He rubbed his cheek against Mulder's parted lips, and felt the other man welcome the harsh abrasion of stubble.

God, the whorl of Mulder's ear. Tracing it with his tongue while he could feel tremors shake Mulder's entire body. Biting the lobe gently. "Ever think of getting your ear pierced?"

"You can do it, if you want." Barely audible, gasping.

Walter lifted his head slightly to look into Mulder's eyes. "You'd let me?"

"Anything."

Lacing his fingers through his hair, Skinner bracketed Mulder's head, holding him still. "How do you feel about tattoos?"

Mulder caught his breath on a laugh and closed his eyes. He felt Skinner's lips on his eyelids, soft, feather kisses. Worshipful, even. He had to swallow hard, the laugh feeling more like a sob. "Oh, god, Walter."

Skinner's mouth moved down his cheekbone to his jawline, the kisses becoming heavier, stronger, and now he could feel the teeth behind the soft lips. Walter's lips, teeth and tongue mapping the muscle and sinew of his throat, now sucking and marking him. Mulder placed his arms over his head and unhooked his ankles, spreading himself out, as Skinner slid down his body, kissing his way down to his chest. Learning his flesh by heart. Memorizing every inch of his skin down his chest to his belly, pausing to thrust tongue into his navel, forcing whimpers from the back of Mulder's throat. Nuzzling the soft skin of lower abdomen with the sandpaper of chin and jaw. Making love to him.

Bringing his forearm up to cover his eyes, Mulder hid the tears that had slipped through his guard. This was too much, too much. One of them had to think. Be responsible. Then Skinner's mouth was on his cock and Mulder stopped thinking.

"Walter. . ."

"Shhhh. Let me. . ."

Sensations of Skinner's tongue on his cock, licking the crown, probing the indentation, then swirling down towards the base as he took the length slowly into his mouth. Strong hands cupping his balls, rolling them between the fingers, caressing them. The sucking sensation of Walter's mouth on his cock sent roiling spasms throughout his groin, and no longer able to fight the urge, Fox instinctively bucked into his lover's mouth.

"Sorry!" Gasping as the mouth withdrew, gagging slightly.

"S'okay." After a cough a warm hand curled around the base of his cock, and the mouth returned, the tongue maddening him with teasing touches, until finally Mulder felt himself engulfed again by that unbearable, wonderful heat. He was so close, so close. This time his thrusts were not allowed to go as deep, and Mulder clenched fists into the material of the couch, clutching the stiff upholstery fabric hard enough to leave hand prints as he cried out, spasming into Walter's mouth.

He could hear Walter cough again, slightly, and felt the hand gripping his softening cock relax. Raising his hand, Mulder blindly caressed the back of Skinner's head. His wrist was grabbed, a wet kiss planted in the palm, and Walter began to kiss his way up towards Mulder's shoulder.

This struck Mulder as funny. "I didn't even speak French, Walter," he murmured and snickered.

He could feel the grin spread the the kiss on his arm. "Fox, you don't need to. Breathing is enough."

The emotion behind those words was enough to quench his laughter. Mulder turned on his side, facing Skinner where he knelt beside the couch. "Where do we go from here?" His voice was small, lost.

Skinner met his gaze steadfastly. No hidden agenda, no ulterior motives, and Mulder was suddenly terrified, his mouth dry. Then Skinner smiled, sunny bright. "How about the bedroom?"

His answering smile was a little shaky. "Works for me. Then I can return the favor."

"That would be nice." Walter stood stretching down a hand to Fox to help him stand, but Mulder's attention was on the semi-erect cock bobbing before him. Impulsively, he leaned forward and licked the crown.

"Of course, that's nice, too." Amused voice betraying his arousal.

"I promise you, I can get nicer."

"Bedroom."

"In a hurry, Walter? We have all weekend."

"If you think for a minute that I am going to wait all weekend. . ."

"Gripe, gripe, gripe." He stood and kissed Walter's mouth deeply, until they were both breathless. Grasping Skinner's cock, he tugged. "Let's go."

"Fox."

"Come on, Walter," hazel eyes glinted mischievously, "I plan to do this all weekend."

"Make love?"

"Lead you around by the dick."

Walter place his hands on both sides of Fox's face, and pulled him closer for another long kiss. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Did you manage to work on that report over the weekend?" Mulder asked solemnly, feet propped on the desk, hands laced behind his head.

The sight did not bode well. Scully took a deep breath. "I did what I could, Mulder. But elves are, well, elves. And with the eyewitness accounts and our own observations, this is really the best that I could do." She flipped a folder in front of him and sat down in the more comfortable of the two chairs arranged in front of his desk. Her attention was focused on his body language and expression as he sat upright, and skimmed her report. Entirely too happy, she decided, and her mouth set in a grim line.

"Skinner's going to hate this. It is basically the same as the last one." He grinned at her. "Of course if these are the facts..."

"They aren't facts, Mulder. These are accounts by people who may or may not have had too much to drink, or who were influenced by a kind of mass hysteria, or who had an overwhelming desire to sell their story to Sightings."

"And our observations? Scully, I didn't notice you tying one on."

"I don't know what it was. I strongly doubt that there were elementals or elves involved."

"How about those little footprints, Scully? How about that? We have got to include that in the report to Skinner. We did both observe these phenomena."

"Mulder, can we just drop it?"

"Appointment with Skinner at ten, Scully. Tick-tock. Can we get this retyped and a copy made?" He handed her the file.

Mutter.

"Did you just call me a bad name, Scully?"

The door was not quite slammed, but it was close enough. Mulder leaned back in the chair, then whirled around. Ridiculous, really, to feel this giddy. The weekend with Walter had been terrific. Not just the sex, which was great. He stretched reminiscently. It was just being with him, watching television, talking about stuff. Nothing important, nothing serious. Just stuff. Hanging out.

Easy to daydream, to think that this relationship was possible, that it had a future. If wishes were horses. . .

Back to work. Mulder reached into his ever present bag of sunflower seeds and took out a handful, popped one into his mouth. Immediately, his tongue felt a difference. Spitting it into his other hand, he examined the seed. There was a little semicircle section taken from the seed. Looking at the seeds in his other hand, he observed that at least half of them bore the same marks. Mice? Insects? Mulder shuddered. He hated bugs. The marks looked too regular to look like mice or insects. He'd ask Scully when she got back.

Mulder didn't remember the seeds until they were seated before Skinner, absorbing a terse synopsis of their failure to turn in a report that didn't, as he put, 'read like something out of Hans Christian Anderson.'

Catching Mulder's slight change of expression, Skinner rasped, "Something to add, Agent Mulder?"

"Sir, those were our observations."

"I refuse to accept this as an official FBI document, Agent Mulder."

"Yes, sir. We'll go back over it, sir."

Scully had been sitting without talking during the meeting, and she quietly stood and preceded Mulder from the room at their dismissal.

"I guess we have to reexamine the evidence." Mulder spoke into the silence that cloaked his partner.

"What else can we say, Mulder? We saw what we saw. I don't believe it was elves anymore than Skinner does, but we can't falsify a report."

"Don't worry about it, Scully. I'll take care of it." He had gone too far, he saw, but didn't feel that now was the time to confess. "Let's work on something else, give ourselves some space from this thing. How do you feel about swamp monsters?" He handed her a file from the top of a pile.

Scully arched an eyebrow at him, acknowledging his attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "Been there, done that."

He grinned at her. This was his old Scully. "Not in Alaska."

"No. Mulder, no. Not Alaska. It's the end of March, it will be freezing."

"But these two reports of creatures are almost identical. Here." A picture fluttered from the file that he had handed to her and he bent to retrieve it from the floor and saw the paper clips scattered under his chair. He picked one up and saw that they were fastened together in a chain. "Scully?"

"Mulder?" She turned calm blue eyes onto the links he held up for her to see. "I guess it beats the thing you do with the pencils. Less hazardous."

"I didn't do this, Scully."

"I thought we were going to drop the elemental thing for now, Mulder."

"Yeah, but. . .Scully, look at these seeds." He grabbed a handful from the bag on his desk. "See these marks, like little bite marks." He thrust the seeds under her nose.

She carefully picked a seed out of his palm and looked at it critically. "There does seem to be a semi-circle cut out of this seed, Mulder, but why would you think it was an elf that did it?" Suspicious look. "This isn't some elaborate joke, is it?"

"Just drop it, Scully. Drop it."

She shrugged. "Whatever. I'm going to go on to Quantico, then, and get those autopsy reports on these people who ran afoul of your swamp creature." She flapped the file at him. "Or your elves."

Mutter.

"Did you just call me a bad name, Mulder?" She hid her smile as she gathered her coat and left.

Mulder sat for a moment frowning at the interlinked paper clips, the sunflower seeds, then he took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

"Skinner."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Agent Mulder."

"I need to discuss this report with you."

"I am very busy -"

"After work would be fine."

"My place. Seven."

"-ish. I'll bring takeout." Mulder squeezed the receiver before hanging up the phone. Returning to the office to retrieve her purse a few minutes later, Scully noted the smile on his face, but ascribed it to swamp creatures.

Biting the inside of Skinner's knee, Mulder suddenly remembered the seeds, but the low moan his ministrations summoned banished the thought immediately. He nibbled his way up the back of Walter's thigh, relishing the tremors that shook his lover. Reaching the firm ass, Mulder licked a finger and ran it around the ring of muscle at the anus.

"Mulder!"

"How does that feel, Walt?" The tip of his finger probed the tight opening.

"Ahh, mmmm."

Mulder stretched across Skinner's back to reach the bedside table and opened a drawer, retrieving the tube of lubricant. Applying it to his fingers, he resumed the gentle probing.

"Fox, I'm not sure. . ."

"I won't if you don't want me to."

Deep sigh. "Go ahead."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

So very careful, maddeningly gentle, Mulder eased his index finger into Skinner's body. He gauged his lover's acceptance by his breathing. Controlled, shallow, letting it happen. Trusting. Then, as Mulder began to move his finger, stretching the tight opening, a catch in his breath, holding it. Letting it out on a moan when Mulder's knuckle brushed the prostate. A sigh of protest when Mulder withdrew the finger entirely.

"Turn over, Walter." Soft, inexorable command.

Clumsily, Skinner obeyed, feeling the unfamiliar lube in his ass. His partial reluctance for this intimacy becoming lost in the sensations that Mulder was drawing forth from his body. His legs parted, knees slightly drawn up, feeling incredibly vulnerable.

Kneeling between Walter's legs, Fox again inserted his index finger, and leaned down to kiss the tip of the hardening cock before him. "This is going to be good, Walter. Trust me."

Running a hand through Mulder's soft hair, Skinner murmured that he did. Pulling his head up for a moment, Fox met his eyes. This was more than sex, more than the pleasure of the moment, or the night, or the week. This was about a willingness to entrust all, not just the body but the soul.

Oh, god. This was too much. But Fox veiled his eyes and smiled wickedly. "You won't regret it."

Skinner, with more wisdom than anyone in that position has any reason to expect, said nothing.

Fox bent his head to Skinner's cock, engulfing the head in his mouth and flicking his tongue against the glans, probing in rhythm with his fingers in the heat of the other man's body. The soft moans and the hardening cock signified his readiness. And Mulder was ready too, his cock rampant against his stomach, aching. Withdrawing his fingers from Skinner's body, he slicked lube on himself and quickly guided the tip of his cock to the puckered opening. Gently pushed, feeling resistance in the tensing of Walter's body, then a forced acceptance. Slowly, he pushed in the head of his cock, feeling more than hearing a soft pop as the larger head squeezed through the guarding ring of muscle at the entrance.

The unfamiliar sensations were causing Walter's erection to flag, and Fox began to stroke the other man's penis, restoring it to it's former hardness before easing himself deeper. This trade-off continued, Mulder pushing into Skinner slowly, while keeping the other man hard. He was rewarded for this care, finally, by Walter pushing his ass back onto the impaling flesh, urging it in, more, faster, until Mulder was buried inside him as far as he could go.

Mulder bent over for a kiss, capturing the lips and teasing the clenched jaws open with his tongue. "You still doing okay, Walt?" he whispered into that open mouth. A groan was his answer as he continued to stroke the other man's penis. "You want some more?"

Convulsively, Skinner's legs clamped across Mulder's waist, holding him there. The hands that dug into Fox's back and side would leave marks for days.

"Goddamit, Fox. Do it. Just do it. Now."

And he did, long, slow, easy thrusts, wanting to give more pleasure than he was taking. His hand stroking on Walter's cock, keeping him hard. He bent forward for another kiss, and Skinner licked the line of sweat from his upper lip.

"Walter, ahhh, god, this is so good, so good." A change of angle brushed the prostate and Skinner's muscle clamped around Mulder's flesh, changing the tempo of his thrusts. "Oh, god! Walter. Walter!"

And Fox began pumping harder, slapping into Walter's welcoming body. His thrusts were accompanied by sharp cries, until he felt himself come, a boiling of sensation that fled from his fingertips and toes to concentrate at the base of his cock and then to burst into the tight heat of Skinner's body.

He thrust a few more times, shooting his semen into his lover, and then collapsed onto Skinner's chest. "Walter." Just saying his name was enough, but the other man tangled his fingers in his hair.

"Fox." A little breathless, the strain he couldn't disguise brought Mulder back to himself. He arched his hips, pulling his softening member free of Skinner's flesh. Skinner's cock, still hard, burned into his belly. He levered himself up on his elbows, looking into the other man's face.

Walter stroked the sweaty hair from Mulder's brow.

"Walter, I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself there at the last. I didn't want -"

"Shhh, Fox. Hush now, it's okay." Walter pulled him down for a long kiss, then rubbed his stubbled jaw against Mulder's. Their mouths met again, a sweet, slow exploration, until Walter felt Fox's hand on his cock, stroking him to full hardness.

"I wanted to bring you off first, Walter." He kissed the man's strong throat, tonguing the sweat from his skin, working his way down to the hard muscles of Skinner's chest.

"This feels good." Skinner closed his eyes, feeling Mulder's mouth kissing, licking and biting down the line of hair that bisected his abdomen, to the erection that was now weeping for release.

A little tantalizing kiss on the base, and Mulder took the heavy balls into his mouth one at a time, tongue tickling the hairs. Letting them go, he blew on them, causing Skinner to arch his body upward. Fox mouthed the head of the swollen cock, and suddenly deepthroated him, taking the bulbous crown as far as he could, hearing Walter's shout when he did. Head bobbing, he moved his mouth up and down on Skinner's cock, tasting the increasing stream of salty cum from the tip. The swelling of the organ warned him that Walter was on the edge and he took him in, all of him. His face pressed into the pubic hair, jaws aching and throat swallowing convulsively, trying to take it all.

Impossible not to think, lying in Walter's bed. Equally impossible to think, to make any plans. Contingencies. Problems. Perils. Pitfalls.

"This is crazy." Speaking quietly to himself, but Walter heard him.

"Crazy like a Fox." Laughter bubbled up, and Mulder turned, twining his legs between Skinner's, feeling the arms enfold him. He closed his eyes hard against reality and held onto the other man. For dear life.

"Mulder, the toxicology reports both state that the victims were poisoned. If something chewed on them, it was after they were dead and had been dumped into the swamp." Scully watched as Mulder sat examining his pencils.

"No point."

"I am sure there is a motive, and that the local police are perfectly capable of discovering it without our help."

"No point on this one, either."

"Mulder, are you listening to me? There are no swamp creatures."

"There are also no points on any of these pencils, Scully. And I can't find the points that were broken off."

"Elves again, Mulder?"

"Look at the evidence, Scully. There are definitely discrete events taking place in my office."

"Are you going to write that in your report to Skinner? Did you get in to talk to him yesterday?"

"Ah, no. He was otherwise occupied. But this is definitely strange. There is another power at work here. Mischievous, possibly malevolent."

"Don't make it more than it is, Mulder."

"We may have been followed back here by the elves, and now face an army of the little people. We've been invaded by brownies, Scully." Mulder was in full whimsical mode, his mind bent to the mystery of the past few days.

"Well, if you see them, order me a box of thin mints."

"Are you serious, Agent Mulder? This, this is the report you plan to submit?"

Past six in the evening, and Skinner had descended to the basement office, waving the folder containing their report in Mulder's face.

"They're heeere, Walter, and I don't know who brought them." Mulder leaned back in his chair and looked lazily up at his lover.

"Elves." Skinner walked to Mulder's side of the desk, perched there on one buttock and gazed down into hazel eyes.

"A little sore there, Walt?" Smug smile playing on Mulder's lips, and Skinner couldn't stand it. He grabbed the front of Fox's shirt and pulled him up to him, kissing him hungrily.

Mulder wrapped his arms around Skinner's neck, giving himself up entirely to the sensation.

"Fox, Fox. Where's Scully?"

"She went home, I told her I was leaving, too, but thought I'd wait around and see if I could get laid. What do you think my chances are?"

"Better than average." Another long kiss. "I wouldn't bet against it."

Mulder was climbing up Skinner's body, forcing him back on the desk and straddling him. "Oh, no."

"No?"

"My turn."

"Oohhh, Walter, I thought you'd never ask. But I want it here. Now."

"Mulder, I don't think -"

"I mean it, Walt. Come on, ream me over my own desk. You know you want to."

The hardest thing, Scully thought, was finding a doll with anatomically correct feet. She stifled a giggle as she thought of Mulder's face, finding little footprints all over his desk. That should teach him to play with her luggage. Elves. Hah! She had enjoyed watching his face as he looked at the sunflower seeds, the paper clip chain, and the pencils. She had been dying to do something to those pencils.

She opened the door to the office and walked in to see Walter Skinner thrust his cock into her partner's ass. She made a little mouse sound.

It was enough. Both men turned their heads to see her standing in the doorway.

"Oh, shit."

(Not quite the end, the story continues in . . .Only Fools Rush In)


End file.
